Home Again
by Ash-Tyr
Summary: Lyle is up to his old tricks again and Jarod just might not be safe anymore. Lyle has a new secret weapon and he will stop at nothing to finally have his revenge.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue: Present. She longed to taste the crisp fresh air that she knew waited outside for her, but her fear of getting caught always overcame her urge to breath in that first clean breath. Clean hah! What did she know about clean? Her hands were stained red with blood and she knew no matter how hard she scrubbed at them it would never wash away. Funny how the freedom she longed for was no more than one door away. Courage was something she lacked. Shyla gently pulled the covers up to her chin to help calm her shivering body. He would come soon and then it would all start again. Another day filled with pain and more regrets then she could face. Or so she thought. Chapter One: Minds Eye Jarod sat silently watching his class as they finished their exam. This wasnÕt the first time that he had chosen to be a Professor and it wasnÕt going to be his last. He often found it rewarding to teach others rather than finding someone to punish. Not that he saw it as just punishing. He helped people find the truth as well as closure, something that Jarod knew he would never truly find. The Bell rang and his students dropped off the semi finished papers as they found the nearest exit. A few smiled and called out their, "Goodbye's" and "See you Monday" as they left. This wasn't one of his usual save the day and solve the crime week, no this was in a way a vacation for him. Jarod was just teaching and nothing else. He smiled as he sat back in his chair looking at the growing pile of papers he would need to grade before Monday. Yes this was the life he loved to enjoy. Two years ago. "Kill or be Killed. Why do you find it so hard to make this choice?" Lyle stared at the girl in front of him as if she were nothing more than a toy for him to play with. Which was exactly how he saw her. Sometimes he wanted nothing more than to throw her out and find someone else more appealing to spend his evenings with, but no matter how much he wanted to do it she could not be replaced. It wasn't that she was too difficult, it was the fact that she was such a scared wretched waste. Lyle hated fear it was the reason he had lost many chances to catch Jarod or better yet chances to pay people back for all they had done to him. Lyle had made it his personal goal to never let fear interfere ever again. Some people just never learned though. Shyla was the next best thing to Jared. She had all his smarts and all she ever did was sit in that damn corner and cry. "I give you the gun and tell you to make a choice. Kill the little boy or eat the bullet. Which do you choose?" Shyla felt her throat tighten as she tried hard to shout her answer, instead it came out as a croak. "Shoot myself." Lyle pulled back his hand and slapped her with such force that Shyla's body bounced against the wall and a crunching noise could be heard as bones broke. "You are a pathetic waste of time. Who is the boy to you? Why is he life worth more than yours? Listen to yourself!" Lyle shouted at Shyla as he pulled her to her feet. He ignored the cry of pain that came from the girl as he half pulled half dragged her into the other room. "Once again you failed, you remember what happens when you fail don't you." Lyle said it more as a statement then a question. One thing he had taught her so far was never to talk back. Lyle Chained her hands together and pushed her face forward against the wall. The back of her shirt ripped and hot fire burned her flesh. He beat her over and over again with the rope until she finally dropped to the floor unconscious. Lyle left her there and went into his kitchen to get a cold drink. Sooner or later he knew his hard work would pay off. Please R&R! 


	2. Chapter 2

Present Time:

Jarod grabbed the stack of papers piled on his desk and shoved them into his briefcase. He was already late leaving work and he still had to prep for that dinner date he committed to with Chloe who taught English down the hall. It was nice to go out and not have to be concerned with who he had to watch or if he was letting the sweepers get to close. Besides Chloe was drop dead gorgeous and had a brilliant mind to go along with the body. Jarod paused long enough to lock his class room door and then rushed down the hall. He noticed a petite woman with long brown hair approaching him and moved aside to give her space. He was surprised when she stopped and gazed at him.

"Would you happen to be Jarod Smith? I was told that his class was down here and he hadn't left yet…"

Jarod gave her one of his winning smiles. "In fact I am. How can I help you?" Even though he was already late he didn't want to offend her by passing her off for a later time.

"Oh, thank goodness! I was worried I wouldn't catch you in time. I am a friend of Chloe's. She's had an emergency and asked me to find you and let you know that your plans for tonight will have to wait. She feels awful about it though."

Jarod tried not to look disappointed by the cancelled date as Chloe had a good excuse. "Thank you. I really appreciate your coming to tell me Miss…."

"Oh, how silly of me not to introduce myself. It's Miss White." 

Jarod took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He stood there a minute and then finally blurted out, "Well I have dinner reservations and all for Lagardo's and it seems like such a waste… You wouldn't happen to… I mean would you be interested… I'm sorry I am being forward."

She laughed. 'Not at all Mr. Smith. I have no plans and I would be delighted for some company."

Jarod smiled and relaxed. "Call me Jarod." He walked her down the hall and felt a thrill of excitement.

"Nice to meet you Jarod. Shyla." She said as she followed him out to his car.

1 year ago:

She was chasing him down a hallway. Shyla marveled at her luck, she had caught up to him in some rinky-dinky run down hotel and had managed to corner him on the third floor. All of the exits and elevators were covered by her sweeper team. She gloated inside knowing that it would piss Parker off to find out that she had been upped one by Lyle's crazed induced assassin. Parker and her were destined to be mortal enemies as they both seeked the same prize and both were painfully aware that only one would get the credit for Jarod's capture.

One by one Shyla kicked her way into every room trying to locate her missing Pretender. It wasn't until she reached room 315 that she was rewarded for all of her hard work. Jarod stood in the center of the room looking at her. He knew he was trapped, she could see the desperation in his eyes. "So we finally meet." Shyla laughed out. And then out of nowhere a young boy rushed into the room and threw himself against Jarod.

"Don't hurt him, please! You don't understand… He's done so much, he saved our lives." The boy cried as he turned to face her.

"Out of the way kid." She demanded pointing her weapon at him. The child who was around 13 didn't budge. "We're at an impasse here. See there's two ways this can end. Either you come along with me or I spill the kids blood all over this nice clean carpet."

Jarod watched her obviously trying to gauge whether or not she was bluffing. Jarod stepped around the boy and walked in front of Shyla, hands out. Shyla roughly turned him around and placed handcuffs on him, "Smart choice." she mocked.

"Get your filthy hands off him!" This again from the kid.

Jarod gave the kid a piercing gaze. "Max, back down, This is for my own good as much as it's for yours."

Shyla dragged Jarod out of the room and spun around as she heard yelling and running feet. Max came at her with a baseball bat in his hands. Shyla raised her weapon again and fired a single shot. Jarod moaned and fell to his knees as tears sprang out of his eyes. Max lay about five feet in front of them motionless with a pool of red blood spilling out of the wound in his head.

"Why?" Jarod croaked out.

"He had his chance and then made the wrong choice." Shyla dragged him back to his feet and shoved him down the hallway. "Move it."

Shyla smiled as the images faded once the virtual reality goggles were removed from her face. "Well?" she inquired.

"Exquisite my dear. Flawless if I do say so myself." She smiled again and felt herself blush at the praise. Lyle left the room and returned to his other work. It wasn't everyday that Lyle was happy with the outcome of her tests. 


	3. Chapter 3

8 months ago:

God, it was everywhere! All over her hands, face, cloths even in her mouth. And that sound, what was that God awful sound? It was something between a screech and a laugh. She scrubbed at her hands and arms trying to remove the sticky substance. She cringed as she watch the running water turn a pinkish red color. Shyla looked up into the mirror and felt utter horror. It was her. She was the one making that sound. She stopped and felt her whole world shift as she realized that not only was she covered in his blood, but she was watching herself act like a hysterical fool, both laughing and sobbing, but there was nothing she could do. She had finally reached the breaking point and now there was no going back ever. But part of her didn't want to.

Two hours previously:

Shyla sat quietly in the little bar watching her intended victim drink away his sorrows. She laughed quietly at that thought. Poor fool had no idea that his sorrows were really only beginning and that by the end of the night he would have wished he had never walked into the bar. He was already on his fifth drink and skimming the faces in the crowd for someone familiar to drown his sadness with. Shyla took that as her cue and grabbed her drink while walking over to his table.

"Mind if I join you?" she casually asked.

He barely looked up from his drink as he replied, "Suite yourself." although the words were slurred.

"My names Brook. God, I hate drinking alone." No better time then now to try the small talk.

He laughed although it sounded forced and a little two dry. "Worse things then that in life sweetheart."

"Like what?"

"Try coming home to your wife of fifteen years and finding her in bed with your best friend of twenty. Hope they enjoyed it while it lasted." Now there was a morbid statement laced with sarcasm.

The conversation went around like that for what seemed like forever, but was really only about an hour before he was so waited that he was more then grateful when she offered him a ride. He could barely walk let alone give her directions, but his mind was so bogged down from the whiskey that he never questioned the fact that she already knew where she was going. When they finally arrived at their destination she helped him out of the car and to the front door.

"Thanks for the ride." He tried to unlock the door, but dropped his keys instead.

"Let me help you with that" Shyla said as she bent to get them.

"No." he said sharply. "I'm fine."

"I insist." Shyla had her gun in one hand and his keys in the other. "After you." She pushed the door open and followed him inside. She was immediately greeted with a metallic smell and sweat. "Been a busy man haven't you." It was more of a statement then a question. She gradually pushed him further into the house until the were right outside the master bedroom. He hesitated, but she didn't relent.

Shyla liked to think that she was prepared for the scene before her, but she hadn't been. There was blood all over the walls, bed and floor. The man had been shot once in the head and lay still on the bed under red soaked sheets. The rest of the blood belonged to the woman. She had three visible gun shots and many more that Shyla knew where hidden beneath the gore. It was obvious that he had attacked her in the bed and then like a prowling hunter let her scurry around the room looking for an escape as he slowly drained her if her life.

"They had it coming." He croaked out from alcohol induced lungs. "They deserved far worse. I was only repaying them their debt." Shyla had to choke back the bile that was rising in the back of her throat. Then out of nowhere he charged at her. They struggled for the gun and without even knowing she could, shyla fired her gun until there were no more rounds left. He staggered to the ground and lay motionless.

Three hours later:

Shyla removed all evidence of her having ever been in his house. She knew when the cops found the traces of blood in the sink, they would assume that he had washed the blood off of his own hands. They would never find his body and would assume that his blood at the scene would prove that his wife had indeed fought back and that after he realized what he had done he fled. It would be a closed case of an out of control domestic disturbance that led to murder and me ham. Shyla closed the door to his home and drove back to the Center.


End file.
